


Happy Birthday, Bucky

by emphasisonem



Series: Idylwood [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7555192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky rubs his temples as he chuckles. “Seriously, Steve, you don’t have to get me anything.”</p><p>“I know that,” Steve smiles. “I <i>want</i> to.”</p><p>“I hope you know,” Bucky smirks. “That I have every intention of finding out when your birthday is and enlisting Sam’s aid in overdoing it.”</p><p>“It’s July 4,” Steve quips, a wicked grin on his face. “And just so you know, I expect an ice cream cake. Preferably a Fudgey the Whale.”</p><p>“You’re such a shit, Rogers.”</p><p>  <b>In which it's Bucky's birthday and Steve is loving getting the chance to embarrass <i> him</i> for a change.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy little fic because I'm currently torn between two different ways The Comeback Kid could go and have yet to settle on which I like better. Hope you like! Also, quick reminder that I have a [ Tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) and you're welcome to message me suggestions! Honestly, the only reason this went from a oneshot to a series is because a reader made a few suggestions, so really. Tell me what you want to read lol.

It’s been about a week since Steve and Sharon broke up, but Bucky’s seen more of the other man in these six or seven days than he ever did in the six months preceding them.

Not that he’s complaining.

Still, he’s sort of surprised when Steve strolls into the shop around 11:45 the following Saturday asking Bucky if he wants to grab a bite at the deli around the corner. Since he missed breakfast this morning, Bucky thinks that sounds like the best idea he’s ever heard.

Of course, his landline begins ringing just as he’s finishing up a get-well arrangement for someone’s kid who’d recently had her appendix removed. Bucky smiles apologetically at Steve and presses the button for speakerphone so that he can multitask.

“In Bloom, how can I help you today?” Bucky asks, his focus on the hyacinths he's placing into the vase in front of him.

He about jumps out of his skin as his mother's and sister's voices float over the line as they sing (well, _shout_ , really) “Happy Birthday” to him. He’s been so focused on work, on getting to know Steve and Sam, on trying to make Steve feel better about his breakup with Sharon that he’d managed to forget that today was March 10.

 _Shit_.

Bucky’s eyes flick up to Steve’s, and the smile on the blond’s face kind of takes his breath away. Steve’s biting his lip, clearly trying to stifle his laughter at the expression on Bucky’s face, which the brunet assumes is a mix of surprise and horror. Bucky can feel the heat rising to his face, and it’s not _all_ embarrassment. He huffs out a quiet laugh as his mom and Becca finish the song, his sister's voice lilting up into a ridiculous falsetto, and then picks up the receiver for the remainder of the conversation in an attempt to save at least a shred of his dignity.

 

* * *

 

“So, your birthday, huh?” Steve grins at Bucky about ten minutes later as the two of them walk over to Katz’s Deli. His smile widens as the brunet’s eyes dip to the ground, pink dusting those incredible cheekbones of his. Steve’s usually the one fumbling, the one blushing like a schoolgirl, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the reversal of their standard roles.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky sighs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans in what Steve assumes is an attempt to keep from fidgeting. Steve takes a moment to admire how nice the other man’s red and gray flannel shirt looks against his skin under his parka, how the sunlight glints off his brown hair. “Kind of forgot about it, actually. Been kinda busy.”

“We should celebrate it,” Steve insists, nudging Bucky’s arm with his elbow.

Bucky snorts, shaking his head. “Not necessary, Steve,” he replies. “Ain’t that big of a deal.”

“Bucky,” Steve’s voice is firm, and he likes the way Bucky’s eyes flash up to meet his, amused and just a little unsure. “You’re my friend. You’ve been wonderful this week. It’s your birthday. We’re doing something.”

“Steve,” Bucky whines, and the blond can’t help but chuckle. “Come on, man, I’m not a big fan of the whole birthday thing.”

“Beats the alternative,” Steve quips, and that gets a genuine laugh out of Bucky. Steve reflects on how nice the deep chuckle sounds, how much he likes the way Bucky’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs.

“I know that, punk,” Bucky grins as they reach the deli, holding the door open so that Steve can walk through first. “Just. I’m not really a huge fan of being the center of attention, all right?”

“Oh, I see,” Steve smirks, and is he imagining it or do Bucky’s eyes linger on his lips as they quirk upward? “So, you can embarrass other people, make them blush, but you don’t wanna deal with it? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

“You know, you’re supposed to be _nice_ to people on their birthday, Rogers,” Bucky grumbles, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“How old are you anyway?” Steve asks, as they get in line, scanning the menu as though he doesn’t order a turkey club with bacon every time he comes here.

“Twenty-nine,” Bucky replies, sighing. “Last year of my twenties.”

“God, you’re practically ancient,” Steve rolls his eyes, a soft ‘oof’ escaping his lips as Bucky elbows him in the stomach.

“Rude,” Bucky pouts, but his eyes are smiling as he moves up to the counter and orders a reuben and a soda. “Besides you can’t be _that_ much younger than I am.”

“Twenty-five,” Steve grins, giggling as Bucky sighs melodramatically,  throwing his hands up in mock distress.

“Youth is wasted on the young.”

Despite Bucky’s whispered protests, Steve butts up, ordering his sandwich, assuring the owner, Mort, that he and Bucky are ordering together, and that he is paying for the meal whether Bucky likes it or not.

“God damn it, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles as they carry their lunches to a table and sit. “You’re the most stubborn man I think I’ve ever met, ya know?”  
  
“Deal with it,” Steve grins and then takes a huge bite out of his sandwich

“Barbarian,”  Bucky mumbles with a smile as he unwraps his own lunch, and Steve nearly chokes as he tries not to laugh.

They’re mostly quiet as they eat, which gives Steve some time to reflect on what exactly he feels for this man. He doesn’t think he was lying when he told Sharon that it’s just a crush; it’s not like Steve knows Bucky well enough for it to be anything more. Still, there’s a part of him that understands Sharon’s reaction. She knows him better than anyone else, and there’s a solid chance that she’s reached the same conclusion as Steve has - it’s just a crush _now_.

But, god, it could be so much _more_.

“You all right, pal?” Bucky’s voice is tinged with concern, and it warms Steve from the inside out. It’s not desire for a change; it’s simply the feeling of knowing someone gives a shit about how he’s feeling.

“Peachy, Buck,” Steve grins. “Just trying to figure out what kind of gift I should get you.”

Bucky rubs his temples as he chuckles. “Seriously, Steve, you don’t have to get me anything.”

“I know that,” Steve smiles. “I _want_ to.”

“I hope you know,” Bucky smirks. “That I have every intention of finding out when your birthday is and enlisting Sam’s aid in overdoing it.”

“It’s July 4,” Steve quips, a wicked grin on his face. “And just so you know, I expect an ice cream cake. Preferably a Fudgey the Whale.”

“You’re such a shit, Rogers.”

 

* * *

 

“So, it’s Bucky’s birthday today,” Steve’s breathless as he enters the hardware store after his lunch break, and Sam can’t help but chuckle at the delighted smile on his friend’s face. It’s good, he thinks. Nice to see Steve excited about something after everything that’s happened.

“Is that right?” Sam asks, smirking. “And I assume you wanna do something for him?”

“Of course!” Steve exclaims. “I mean, come on. He’s still pretty new here. Have you ever really seen him out and about with anyone? I think we might be his only friends. And he’s been so good this week with the whole Sharon thing, and he’s clearly embarrassed by any birthday attention so he just blushes all the time and it’s adorable, and you _have_ to help me-”

“Number one, I’m sure Bucky has friends, Steve,” Sam interrupts, rolling his eyes. “They’re just back in Brooklyn. Number two, did you really just refer to a grown man as _adorable?_ Number three, you know I’m just messin’ with you, right? Of course I’ll help you. What do you need me to do?”

“Exactly what you’re doing right now,” Steve grins. “Just man the store while I prepare. Then, close up early and come help me set up.”

“Yeah, all right,” Sam calls as Steve heads back out the door. “I’ll do all the boring stuff like make sure our business doesn’t run into the ground. You have fun.”

 

* * *

 

Steve surveys the miniscule party section in the local grocery store, frowning over the lack of options. He grabs some balloons, streamers and a banner, wishing he had more time to get all of this together. But he’s planning on baking a cake himself, so it’s not like he can drive to the Party City an hour away for a confetti cannon if he wants to get that done.

He grabs the ingredients he’ll need for his mom’s chocolate cake recipe (he’d seen Bucky eyeing a packet of chocolate snack cakes at the deli earlier, so he figures this is a safe bet), and hurries to the register to pay for his purchases, letting the woman manning the register know that yes, he would like the balloons filled with helium, thank you.

Steve sets to baking as soon as he gets home. The familiar rhythm of mixing the ingredients together sets him at ease, and he’s belting a Frank Sinatra tune as he’s icing his creation when Sam walks through the kitchen door around 4:30.

“Good lord,” Sam laughs. “You’re baking for the boy and _singing_ while you do it? You’ve got it worse than I thought, Rogers.”

“Shut up and get to hangin’ some streamers, Wilson,” Steve grins. “I’ve had a difficult week and doing stuff for people cheers me up. Nothin’ more than that.”

“Uh huh,” Sam, chuckles as he heads out into the living room. “That’s all it is, I’m sure.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s head snaps up when he hears a knock on the door as he’s cleaning up for the day. Steve is standing outside with a big, way-too-pleased grin on his handsome face and a six-pack in his hand.

“Come on,” Steve grins when Bucky opens the door. “Sam and I are throwing you a tiny birthday party. Just us, some pizza, this six pack, and whatever movie you wanna watch.”

“Steve, this is so unnecessary, I can’t even begin to-” Bucky starts, but Steve cuts him off.

“Barnes,” Steve’s smirking, and his voice is low and commanding, and is it suddenly really warm in here or is it just Bucky? “I am not taking no for an answer. Now, come on.”

“Let me just,” Bucky stumbles a little as he moves toward the back room of the shop. “Let me just get my coat.”

 _Keep it the fuck together, Barnes,_ he chastises himself as he slips into his parka. Still, he can’t help smiling over the fact that Steve seems genuinely happy for the first time in a week.

Steve apparently _walked_ to Bucky’s shop from his house (“In this weather,” Bucky shouts, throwing his hands in the air, knowing he sounds like a mother hen. “Are you fucking kidding me, Rogers? It’s too cold and damp, are you _trying_ to get sick?”), so Bucky drives them over in his pickup. Steve’s practically bouncing in his seat, which makes Bucky a little nervous.

And when Bucky walks into Steve’s living room, which is full of balloons and streamers and a fucking _happy birthday banner_ , he groans out loud. But he smiles because Steve’s cackling like a fucking maniac, and honestly, he doesn’t care how embarrassed he feels right now. Steve’s happy.

 

* * *

 

It’s been kind of an emotional roller coaster of a week for Steve. Continuing to deal with his blossoming feelings for Bucky while trying to sort out his emotions about Sharon has been exhausting.

But the brunet’s reaction to all the decorating was absolutely _priceless_.

Still, it’s nothing compared to the look of horror on Bucky’s face when Sam turns out the lights in Steve’s dining room while Steve brings out the small cake he made, candles burning brightly in the darkness

“Oh, god,” Bucky groans, but Steve can see he’s trying _very_ hard not to smile. “Guys seriously?”

“Happy birthday to you,” Steve sings, Sam joining in after a few words. They both grin as Bucky flushes pink, dropping his head into his hands and shaking with silent laughter.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear, Bucky,” They sing, drawing out the ‘Y’ and chuckling as the brunet shakes his head. “Happy birthday to you.”

“You guys are insane,” Bucky laughs, blowing out his candles. “Thank you.”

He cuts a couple of slices, eyes widening when he bites into his.

“Fuck, Steve, is this homemade?” Bucky asks around a mouthful, and Steve nods, giggling.

“Well, it’s incredible,” Bucky shakes his head, smiling. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”  
  
“I wanted to,” Steve smiles, admiring the blush coloring Bucky’s cheeks and the shyness of Bucky’s answering grin.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s starting to worry that Steve’s touchy-feely nature could become a real problem for him as the blond hugs him goodbye after walking him out the door.

“Happy birthday, Bucky,” Steve grins, cheeks flush with happiness as he pulls back a little, one arm still around Bucky, keeping him close.

Bucky’s brain is short circuiting a bit at their proximity, but he somehow manages a “thank you.” It’s a Herculean effort to step back out of Steve’s embrace because that’s the place he wants most to be, but Bucky does it.

“This was,” Bucky smiles, a little more composed now that there’s some distance between them. “This was really nice, Steve. Seriously, thank you. You’ve had a hard time of it lately, and you did this for me anyway.”

Steve shrugs, a light blush coloring his features. “That’s what friends do.”

And even though Bucky wants so much more with Steve, wants to know what it’d be like to take the blond out for a date, to snuggle up together on the couch, to kiss and caress him until Steve’s begging for more, he nods. Because being friends with Steve is pretty damn great too.

Maybe birthdays aren’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
